PROLOUGE
It's past midnight and that mansion on the hill is still lit up.
You wouldn't even want to go near it. Stone walls so high, then black iron fences on top of that. Cameras everywhere. They turn like every 5 seconds, you can hear them. Guards walking with guns. Not rent-a-cops, real ones.
No way in.
Well, almost.
One second the camera sees nothing but dark and the tree shadow. Next second there's like a glitch, a flicker. Then nothing again. If you blinked you missed it.
She's already inside.
She sticks to the wall. Under the trees. She's not running, she's not doing that movie slow walk either. She just knows when to stop. She stops now cause there's a guard coming.
She squeezes behind a pillar. Stone, cold. She doesn't breathe loud. Just waits.
Guard passes. Flashlight. Doesn't look.
When he's gone, she goes again.
There's a post ahead. Two guys under a lamp. One smoking. Camera on top.
She watches. Camera turns left. The two guys are talking. One laughs.
She counts in her head. 1, 2, 3 — camera turns away.
She moves.
First guy — she doesn't even let him finish his inhale. Hand over his mouth, arm around his neck. She knows how long. She counts. Then lets go slow. She catches him before he hits the ground, puts him down soft so his radio doesn't clank.
Second guy hears something, like a shoe scuff. Turns.
"Who—"
She's already behind him. Same thing. Hand, pull, down. He drops next to the first one.
Both breathing, just out cold. She didn't need to kill them.
She looks around quick and keeps going to the house.
All that security is for people who don't know how it works. She does.
Side of the house, second floor balcony. She takes out a thin black cord from her bag, swings it. First try doesn't catch. Second one does. She climbs. Fast. No noise.
At the top she pulls the cord back, rolls it, puts it away.
Glass doors. Locked.
She kneels. Takes out a little pick. Her hands are small but steady. She jiggles it once, twice — click. Open.
She slips inside.
Inside smells like money. Cold aircon, polished wood, marble. Too quiet.
Lance's place.
Everyone knows Lance. Business guy but also the other kind. That's why he has ten guards for one house.
She doesn't look around like a tourist. She knows where she's going. She knows where the camera blind spot is, she avoids the big mirror in the hallway cause she knows she'll be seen there.
End of the hall. One door. His office.
She stops. Takes out the gun from under her coat. Holds it low.
Listens. Nothing.
She tries the knob.
Open. Unlocked.
Weird. That's weird. All that security outside and this one is just... open? Her first thought is trap.
She stands there for like two seconds. Then pushes it anyway.
Dark inside. She steps in, closes the door soft behind her.
Can't see anything at first. Gun up.
Then — tck — a lighter.
Small flame. Just enough to see a desk, and a man sitting behind it.
He doesn't jump. He doesn't grab a gun. He just sits there. Like he's been sitting there all night waiting.
Flame goes out. Dark again.
Then he talks. So calm. No fear at all.
"Vierra."
She freezes. Like actually stops breathing for a second.
Then he leans back. You can hear the chair creak. He's kind of smiling when he says it.
"I was beginning to wonder when you would finally come for me."
